


Boys of Summer

by MarbleAide



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, F/M, Fluff, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Pining, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleAide/pseuds/MarbleAide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's accidentally signed up for a summer camp where he meets Conner-- things progress over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Wirtten for someone who was having a rough month and I wanted to cheer them up. Hopefully you all enjoy it as well!

It all starts when Tim is accidentally signed up for a summer camp. It’s not unusual. He says ‘accidentally’ because he’s gotten to the point of always figuring nothing his parents do with him is purposeful. One year he had been signed up for an astronaut camp down in Florida and didn’t know it until the day his nanny came to drive him to the airport. They are aware he needs to be somewhere and do something in the summers, but beyond actually signing papers and paying for whatever camp it might be, they have no true idea where Tim is on their own. They only know that he is not in the house for two or so months. 

This camp is a classic one—something he’d seen in movies or read about in books. It’s in the woods and you sleep in cabins with bunkmates and eat in a big cafeteria that’s a single roomed building made of logs. He’s not entirely pleased with this when he arrives, as he’s never been very good out in the sun or with bugs.

Tim is ten and has a backpack on his shoulders, a suitcase by his side, and very little else. His nanny had waved him off at the airport and told him to have fun as she always does, that she’ll see him in two months, and left him with the airport attendant who put the ‘Flying Minor’ lanyard over his neck so everyone knew he was both too young and too alone. It didn’t bother him too much, as he was so used to it at this point, and did enjoy the conversations he had with whoever he sat next to on the airplanes that thought they’d take some sort of pity on him for being a child flying alone.

The first thing he really noticed about this camp, beyond the sun and the dirt and the trees, was how loud it was. His other summer adventures were loud, but usually they were indoors-loud. This was outdoors and many more kids with many different ages, all running about and shouting. There was a loosely held schedule of when everyone ate and certain group cabin activities, but beyond that they were all free to roam as they wanted and join whatever activate they fancied.

Tim found himself in the ‘Silver’ cabin which he had no idea how it truly related to anything beyond the painted color of the cabin door, though it looked much more gray then silver, but Tim figured silver sounded more exciting and important than gray. His counselor was a tall man who smiled wide and was named Victor. When Tim met with him to get his name checked off the list and get assigned his bunk, he also noticed that Victor was missing an arm, replaced with a prosthetic that looked more robotic than Tim had ever seen before. With his mother having taught him to never stare, Tim quickly turned his gaze away.

“Hey,” Victor said, clearly having noticed where Tim’s eyes had been previously. “It’s cool—my nickname around here is Cyborg for a reason.”

Victor winks and Tim’s face turns crimson, embarrassed at having been caught, but nodded quickly regardless before darting away to go claim his bunk and put his things away.

He plans on taking up most of the day by unpacking, but that changes nearly as soon as a boy pops his head down from the bunk right above him and grins.

He’s got dark hair cut short and a little sloppy, like a mother with shaky hands did it in the kitchen, and blue eyes that Tim thinks look unnaturally bright. “Hi,” he says, sticks out his hand while hanging near upside down from his bunk. “I’m Conner, but you can call me Kon. Quicker to get out.”

Tim blinks, but remembers his parents’ teachings, and reaching out to shake the other boy’s hand which is awkward from the angle they’re at. “I’m Tim.”

Conner flips down from the top bunk in a manner that makes Tim a little scared, but he lands easily on his feet. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt and big black boots that are scuffed with dirt and double knotted at the laces. He’s taller than Tim, looks a few years older, which makes Tim wonder how he got into this cabin in the first place. He thought the ages for this bunk were only ten to twelve.

“You’re new?” Conner asks, his hands on his hips as he sort of circles Tim in a way that makes him only slightly uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Tim replies, keeps turning his head so he could keep his eye on the other. “This is my first year. How long have you been coming?”

“This is my third,” Conner grins like that’s a really big achievement. “You’re gonna love it. Wanna come with me to meet up with some of my other friends?”

It’s a question right up until Tim’s about to answer ‘no’ as he still wants to unpack, but before the syllable could leave his mouth, Conner grabs him by the hand and runs off with him in tow, back out into the wide open center of the camp with a quick shout to Victor about how they’ll be in the mess hall for dinner.

—

Tim meets Cassie who’s in the Gold cabin—she’s been at the camp just as long as Conner has, and Bart who’s in the Red cabin and keeps his chest puffed out whenever he says he’s a ‘legacy camper’ which means something like his cousin is the Red cabin counselor and his uncle used to be a counselor too when he was younger.

It’s almost surprising how easily Tim gets along with them. He’s always made friends in the past while away at summer camps, but never this quickly and never like this. Bart rambles on so much there’s never much silence around them, Cassie knows all the ins and outs of the camp so they’re never bored, and Kon sort of grows into the right-hand of Tim—or Tim is Kon’s right or whatever it might be. It’s unusual for anyone to see one without the other and on multiple occasions Victor has to tell them that lights out also means it’s time for bed and all that giggling needs to stop.

They make up for it by learning a messy version of Morse code that they create themselves so they can rap lightly on the wooden bed frame that separates them to keep a conversation going without getting in trouble.

There’s a point halfway through the summer where kids start receiving care packages from their parents—boxes with extra sunscreen inside, little knickknacks, candies, notes with handwriting that hopes they’re having a good time or that they miss them and love them and will see them in August! Tim’s confused by it all, asks Kon about it when he gets one from his ma, and he looks back at him like he’s crazy.

“Your parents never sent you anything when you went to camp?”

Tim shakes his head, knees pulled up close to his chin. “No,” he says. “Where they supposed to?”

Kon’s eyebrows come together looking concerned, but he doesn’t say anything else on the subject. Instead, he offers Tim one of the snicker doodle cookies his ma had sent up for him—homemade—and tells Tim they’re the best he’s ever going to have. He’s right, and Tim doesn’t feel so bad about the hole in his stomach from the fact that his parents would never think to send him anything.

When the summer’s over, Tim genuinely feels like he doesn’t want to leave, which he can’t remember happening before. Kon makes him promise he’ll be back next year and the ‘Core Four’ as they’ve been fondly nicknamed exchange addresses so they can write back and forth to each other over the school year until summer starts up again.

Getting home, Tim talks none stop with the nanny while he has someone’s attention about how wonderful his summer was and she seems surprisingly pleased that Tim’s talking this much without being prompted to do so.

His parents ask, but quickly tell him ‘that’s nice, Timmy dear’ or ‘I’m glad you had fun’ before they start fusing over how much sun Tim got and the bug bites on his arms and legs. Their concerns are forgotten a few days later and come next year it’s easy for Tim to slide the sign up form to them to make sure he goes to the same camp.

Over the year, Tim writes none stop to his friends. They talk as often as they can, exchanging letters just as fast as the post office hands them out.

He feels almost guilty, but Tim likes receiving Kon’s the most.

He talks about living on a farm way out in the middle of nowhere with his ma and pa and sends Tim terrible drawings of the few cows they have and the chicken that always crows whenever the front door opens. He writes about how far he has to drive to get to school and how he has chores to do before the bus comes and his ma’s apple pie.

Tim sends him photos he’s taken around the city—how tall skyscrapers are and the food carts at every corner and badly angled selfies when Tim gets home. He writes about school and the science fair he enters and about the creepy fog that settles around Gotham after it rains.

When summer comes around again, it’s like they haven’t missed a beat.

Kon and Tim are in the same cabin again. They perfect their little secret knocking language at night while during the day they run around catching frogs down by the creek and learning how to shoot bows and putting together the most unstoppable force during capture the flag.

The four of them sit together at night with jars of fireflies they caught when the sun started to go down and tell ghost stories by a fire with marshmallows roasting over sticks they carved sharp themselves. Tim eats more marshmallows then anyone, Cassie learns how to put together a strong fire, and Kon and Bart have contests about who can tell the best scary story.

When lights out is called, they stand together and release their fireflies back out into the sky, watching them fly away, flickering yellow, waiting until they disappear among the trees once more before running back off towards their cabins.

In bed, Tim taps out how he thought Kon had the best scary story. Kon taps back he’s surprised Tim didn’t throw up with all the sugar he ate. They end up giggling again until Victor warns them about going to sleep.

—

“Well, I’d rather learn with you. You know, so we both know how to do it right with girls later.”

Tim makes a face. They’re alone, just him and Kon, off in a little rock enclosure by the creek. They made sure all the spiders were taken out before crawling underneath.

Kon just asked if they could practice kissing each other, which was something Tim had never thought about until now. It was strange, with how serious Kon seemed by it, but Tim was flattered the other boy would come to him with such a problem and not anyone else.

Slowly, Tim nods with his knees pulled up tight to his chest, because he figures that is an important thing to learn, because kissing girls does eventually happen, right? So they practice, hidden under a rocky ledge, with soft kisses not touching beyond their lips.

It’s weird, Tim thinks, but in a good sort of way. He feels his cheeks are hot when they finish and Kon grinning back at him only makes it worse.

During the school year, he gives a girl a kiss for the first time, but finds it doesn’t leave his stomach feeling warm and fluttery like when he did it with Conner by the creek. He spends a long time thinking about that, but doesn’t write about it in his letters marked for Smallville.

The next summer, he’s heartbroken to find Kon’s been moved up to another cabin—he’s thirteen and Tim’s only twelve, so Tim still has a year before he’s moved up into the new age group. It’s strange, sleeping in the Silver cabin and knowing Kon isn’t sleeping right above him so they could hold their tapped out conversations long into the night. Of course, he sees Kon during the day. They still do everything together, but the nights he finds are lonely and the cabin around him so loud with the noises of his sleeping bunkmates and the wooded world outside.

He’s only able to feel this loneliness for a month, however, as his summer is cut short with news of his mother having died.

His nanny comes up directly to the camp to take him home. It all happens so fast he’s not entirely sure how to feel about it all, isn’t even capable of saying goodbye to his friends properly as he’s ushered into the back of a car and driven to the airport with dirt from a soccer game interrupted still in his hair.

He feels numb through the funeral. Numb at the reception. People he doesn’t know come up to him and pat at his head or shoulders and say how brave he is or how sorry they are or how his mother is in a better place. He hears people whispering about how distraught his father is, questioning how he’s going to raise a little boy on his own, and Tim doesn’t have enough of a voice to say ‘he didn’t raise me before’. But he thinks that’s inappropriate. His mother would have told him that was inappropriate, so he keeps his mouth quite and sits on the couch in the living room that he can’t remember ever being allowed to sit on all day and people move in and out around him.

He goes to bed early and stares at the wall next to his bed all night. He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but at some point he did and when he opens his eyes again it’s morning. The house around him is entirely quiet, a harsh difference from the day before. He should be used to it, honestly, but now the silence holds a heavy sort of weight to it that clings to Tim for a very, very, long time.

Tim’s disappointed he doesn’t get to go back to camp. He’d mentioned it to his nanny one day while she was feeding him lunch, but the question was shot down with something that sounded both mean and calm with a ‘your father needs you right now, Timothy’. It made Tim’s gut roll in a manner he didn’t think he’d ever experience before. He’d barely seen his father since the funeral. No one had. He’d locked himself up in his study and Tim didn’t know what he was doing in there, but he had enough hindsight to know it probably had something to do with the liquor cabinet his father kept in there.

He didn’t ask again all summer.

The next letter Kon sends has a phone number attached and Tim calls it up almost immediately, hopeful. A woman picks it up, sounding a little out of breath, and Tim stutters his way through asking if Conner was there—this is Tim—and the woman on the line laughs softly, saying she’s heard so much about him, and that she’ll call Conner down right away.

Tim’s still blushing as Conner gets to the phone and Tim’s really glad he can’t see him right now.

The next three hours are filled with them talking. Conner tells him they missed him the rest of the summer, that he’s sorry Tim’s mom died, and Tim tells him it’s okay in a way that he hopes sounds right. Tim drags the conversation away from all that though, asks Kon all about what happened without him, and really likes how Kon groans loudly right before telling him how ‘it sucked without you, man!’ because at least Tim knows he’s wanted somewhere.

They talk until Kon’s ma tells him he’s going to have to pay for the phone bill next month and with a heavy sigh they both say goodbye, but not before they set a date to call again next week. Tim gives Kon his phone number too and when Tim lays back in bed that night he feels lighter than he’s had since leaving camp that summer.

The school year is spent talking on the phone, writing letters, and learning how to properly do a three way and four way call to get Bart and Cassie into the conversation too. It’s a jumbled mess of voices half the time, but it always leaves Tim giggling underneath his blankets late into the night until one of them is caught by a parental figure and scolded to go to bed. It feels a lot like camp, a lot like what Tim missed, and he can’t wait for June to come around again.

—

The next time he sees any of them, he’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Kon and Cassie holding hands in a way they never did before. He’s shocked until Bart whispers to him that they’re dating in a tone of voice that is so scandalized. Tim doesn’t understand why his stomach gets so tight all the sudden or why his heart feels like it’s caught in his throat, but he doesn’t have very long to think on it in the moment. He’s happy, still, as he’s finally old enough to move up into the same cabin as Kon like before—the Blue cabin.

Their new counselor is essentially the counselor, as many like to say. He’s the hot one all the girls have obvious crushes on, the one who you always want on your team, the one that says the morning announcements, and who can do one armed push-ups. Dick Grayson.

Tim likes him. He’s liked him ever since he knew who he was. Dick’s always smiling, always helping, and of the few interactions they’ve had over the years, Tim’s always come away from them feeling like he can take on the world after.

Dick tells stories before bed of growing up in the circus and than in a big house and how chandlers are not as high up as tight ropes and how his siblings fought over the last muffins in the mornings before school. He always asks about everyone else—their cabin becoming a full open mic night at some points—with everyone telling stories of their home life. Tim likes to listen, but he never stands up to speak. He doesn’t have any fun stories to tell, not like the ones others tell that include family and friends, and Tim honestly doubts anyone would be interested in hearing about Tim’s adventures with his nanny.

Cassie and Kon are still a thing for most of the summer, and it’s fine. Nothing else changes besides them holding hands or sitting next to each other more or the occasional stolen kiss when the counselors aren’t watching. Tim doesn’t mind. He’s finding it easier and easier to ignore the knot in his stomach every time he finds them smiling at each other in that way.

They’re together until they’re not and looking back on it the relationship only lasts a month and a handful of days. They’re still friends, they’ve just stopped touching each other as much and Cassie resumes sitting next to Bart during meals on the opposite side of the table. Tim almost hates that he feels better about this.

—

“Can we practice again?”

It’s the last day of camp and Tim’s back under the rock ledge with Kon. There’s more moss growing up along the crevices and the creek a few feet away trickles through the low flowing areas of smooth rocks and fallen trees.

Tim looks up at Kon, his knees up at his chin, and cocks his head at him. “But you looked okay doing it with Cassie?”

Conner shakes his head at Tim, scoots a little closer. His hair is longer in the front from when Tim first met him and now it looks like it was cut by someone with a more steady hand. His eyes are still the same bright, crystal, blue, but there’s a sharper edge to them now with the fading of youth. He fills out his shirts better, his skin is tanner, and Tim figures it’s all from working more on his parent’s farm. He’s told Tim he’s been starting to play football too and Tim likes to picture him in a uniform.

“Come on, just a little bit? Please?”

It takes him a moment, but Tim finally agrees and lets Kon move in even closer. Tim hears ringing in his ears as they stare at each other for a long second before Conner finally dips his head down and closes the space between them.

It’s different from the few years ago. Conner’s lips are more chapped, but he’s surer of himself this time. Tim feels himself starting to warm up, nearly makes a noise when he feels Kon’s hand move to his cheek where Kon had never touched him beyond their lips before. Tim finds his legs are falling and Kon’s crawling closer and his hand goes from his cheek to the back of Tim’s neck and holds him there gently. Tim doesn’t realize he’s closed his eyes until Kon pulls away from him panting and Tim has to flutter open his lashes to stare at him.

Kon’s cheeks are just as bright as his, probably, though Tim wonders if Kon feels the same tingling in his stomach as he does.

They don’t kiss again after that, but when they go walking back towards camp Tim feels their fingers brush and wants to curl his into Kon’s. He doesn’t, but he still wants to.

—

During school, they don’t talk about the kiss. They call each other and write back and forth like they always do. They start playing computer games together and watching movies synced up over their computers. They Skype until well into the early mornings and send each other dumb gifts for holidays.

They don’t discuss it, but Tim’s old enough to know what this feels like now, what he wants, and he’s terrified wondering if Kon feels the same.

Come summer, Tim’s nervous.

He’s nervous because Kon’s his best friend and nervous because Tim thinks he might ruin that. Nervous because Kon’s ever only talked to him about girls and nervous because Tim’s never talked to Kon about anyone.

He’s nervous because this is Kon’s last year at camp—he’s sixteen and gonna be too old and Tim’s worried he’ll never see him again.

For the first half of the summer, Tim acts completely normal. He’s good at that, good at hiding things, and does so to his advantage even if his chest hurts a little because of it.

It’s all fine until his birthday comes around, as it does every summer, and Tim moves from fourteen to fifteen and they celebrate with a big fire pit and s’mores and lots of badly sung camp songs. His birthday comes and Tim’s all the more aware of how close the summer is to being over. Each day grows closer and closer to the end and Tim can’t help but worry.

He lies in his bottom bunk of the Blue cabin, staring up at the wooden frame of the bed above him, of the bed Kon’s sleeping in, of where he’s slept for most of Tim’s time at camp.

Tim holds his hand up, knuckles bared, and hesitates to knock.

Kon’s asleep. Tim knows he is. He can hear him snoring softly above him.

Tim swallows. He taps out the message anyway.

T-h-i-n-k     
I  
L-o-v-e  
Y-o-u

Tim waits for a long moment, as if he thinks a reply will come, but it never does and he curls up in bed in an attempt to sleep.

Summer ends and Tim’s not any closer to what he wants. Packing up his bags, he feels heavy. He feels dread.

Except Kon comes running up to the cab that’s going to take him to the airport, looking out of breath with sweat on his brow, leans in to the window to make sure the cab doesn’t leave and grins in at Tim.

“Next summer,” he says, leans his head into the car and Tim thinks about their time by the creek hiding under the rocks. “Next summer, you should come stay with me in Smallville.”

Tim’s heart flutters. His throat goes dry, but still some how he manages to get out a ‘yeah’ before Kon lets go of the car and Tim drives off, watching Kon get smaller and smaller from the rear window.

—

In November, Tim’s father dies. No one’s truly surprised; he’s been drinking himself closer and closer to death for years now ever since his wife died. Still, Tim stands in mourning at the funeral. He’s numb inside just like the first time and hears much of the same from the people who press reassuring hands to his shoulders.

His nanny moves into the house with him, becomes his legal guardian, and nothing truly changes. Tim thinks he should feel more than he does, feels guilty because of that, but it disappears quickly. Tim moves on.

Kon’s there for him. They talk, but not about what happens. Kon knows at this point Tim’s never liked talking about his parents, so he always keeps the conversations towards school or towards the summer to come. Tim has his tickets booked by January and Kon keeps teasing that Tim’s gonna have to get his hands dirty for the first time in his life. Gotta earn his keeps when he visits and Tim laughs when he hears Ma Kent scold Conner on the other side of the phone before quickly snatching it from her son and telling Tim he has to do no such thing.

Tim can’t wait.

There’s no airport in Smallville, so Tim has to fly in to the nearest one and get picked up. Tim’s greeted by an old pickup truck with Kon waving from the passenger’s seat, Pa Kent in the driver’s. He hugs Kon when they stop at the curb and it feels full body and warm in a way Tim has only ever associated with Conner. He’s introduced to Kon’s dad to which the older man smiles at Tim in the same way Conner’s always done—warm and welcomed. They throw Tim’s suitcase into the back of the truck before they all climb in again and drive off towards Smallville.

The drive is long, but Ma Kent has dinner waiting when they return. She hugs Tim like he’s her own son and coos over how thin he is, squishes his cheeks, hugs him again, before Kon mutters out that she’s crushing him and they all settle down for dinner after the small smack to the head that Kon’s given.

The food is delicious and Tim makes sure to repeat this fact a few times. He’s just as polite as his mother taught him, though he finds himself opening up more in this farm house that truly feels like a home. Tim doesn’t feel like he has to tip-toe anywhere. He’s welcomed with open arms to sit, eat, talk. They ask Tim all sorts of questions about Gotham and school and give their condolences regarding Tim’s parents in a manner that sounds genuine instead of something you know you have to say when someone loses a loved one.

After dinner, there’s dessert, and Tim finds himself over stuffed on the couch nearly an hour later with an old white dog sitting next to him that huffs if Tim stops patting his head. He’s shown up to a bedroom as soon as he’s able to walk again, told this was Kon’s older brother’s old room who now lives in Metropolis and Tim’s never felt like he’s slept on a more comfortable bed.

The nights are cool with the windows open and crickets chirping in the wheat fields beyond. Tim sleeps peacefully until he’s woken up with the crow of a rooster and though he’s told he doesn’t have to help, Tim does pull his own weight helping out with early morning chores, feeding the animals, learning how to milk a cow, and by the time the sun is fully risen all he wants to do is fall back into bed again.

Kon laughs at him over breakfast, how he’s falling asleep into his plate of biscuits and eggs, and Tim can’t help but smear a bit of jelly on his cheek for it.

It’s a mistake, as Kon cleans it off with his fingers, licking them clean, and Tim’s hit with all that warmth in his stomach again. He excuses himself after clearing his plate, making the excuse that he needs a shower, and does his best to cool down under the spray of water.

—

Tim doesn’t actually realize the room he’s staying in and Kon’s own share a wall until one night he hears a familiar knocked out message for him when he tries to sleep.

Y-o-u  
A-w-a-k-e

Tim sits up in bed, smiling, and quickly sends his reply.

Y-e-s

C-a-n  
I  
C-o-m-e  
O-v-e-r

Tim pauses, thinks for a moment, before tapping back.

W-h-y

There’s an even longer pause now from Kon. Tim listens hard, he hears shuffling, and nearly jumps when he finally hears another knock.

W-a-n-t  
T-o  
T-e-l-l  
Y-o-u  
S-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g

Tim bites his lip, wonders, tries not to hope.

O-K

He can hear Kon moving, can map his feet as the wooden flooring under them creak in the night. He sits up in bed when his door opens, breathing coming harder when Kon’s standing in the doorway in the dim light of the night with nothing but sleeping pants on. Tim swallows heavy and thick. Conner’s really grown into himself

“Kon?”

Kon steps closer, closing the door behind him, and it’s the first time Tim thinks he’s ever looked nervous around him.

“Tim. I—I just wanted to—“ Tim watches his tongue poke out, wet his lips.

“Yeah?”

Kon sighs. “You can, you know, tell me off and everything, but I…”

Tim starts to hope. He thinks he knows, peering at Kon in the dark. He jumps.

“Can we practice kissing again?” Tim says and now it sounds stupid—now they’re old enough, they’re in high school, they’ve done this before, but it feels right, and Tim can’t help but smile when Kon’s face stills. “Except, I don’t really want to practice anymore.”

It’s like a snapping branch.

Kon’s crossed the small room and kneels on the bed, crowds up around Tim, and captures his lips just as Tim leans up to let him. There’s no hesitation now when Kon presses his hand to Tim’s cheek and Tim wraps his arms around Kon’s neck to pull him in closer.

They kiss until they’re breathless than keep going when they can ignored the light headed feeling in their heads. This time, Tim does make noises, does let Kon close, opens his mouth when Kon silently asks and they both taste like the fading flavor of toothpaste. They kiss until their mouths are numb and lips bruised and Kon finally falls to the bed, half on top of Tim, in the small confines of the twin sized mattress.

Tim’s the first to start laughing, arms wrapped around Conner with him following soon after.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” Kon admits and Tim’s never felt so warm in his life.

“What took you so long?” Tim grins, laughs even more when Kon pokes at his side before they settle in the bed, tangled up in one another.

“Will your parents be mad?”

Kon shrugs. “They know.”

Tim pinches him. “You set me up.”

“Only a little.”

Tim sighs, not thinking about that or the lost time they’ve had. Instead, Tim gets comfortable in Kon’s arms, finding that he fits perfectly in them, and watches for when Kon’s eyes fall asleep.

He bites his lip.

“Hey,” he whispers now, sees Kon’s eyes open again.

“Hm?”

Tim reaches up to the walls, tapping out one more message.

L-o-v-e  
Y-o-u

Tim makes out the smile on Kon’s lips in the dark as his own fist lifts a few inches from Tim’s own.

L-o-v-e  
Y-o-u  
T-o-o


End file.
